GeminiAnomaly
by authorpath
Summary: When you go missing, you expect there will be change in your life at your return. What you do not expect is that there is no change because you are still living your life, except that it is not really you. Someone is replacing you in your life may not be your truth, Well for me that is my story, I was Peter Parker. Based on the challenge GeminiAnomaly


_I was Peter Parker_

I try to open my eyelids, but I cannot due to a fabric pressing against them. I feel constrained like I am wrapped up in a blanket that is inside a bag. Everything hurts like I have gone through a blender and been put into a human skin. I am bouncing up and down, hanging by my gut, folded in half.

Splosh!

Suddenly, I am thrown into what feels like water, the surface breaking as it tries to resist my entrance. The icy cold does not help the injuries I have. Slowly, water starts to flow in as I wriggle to escape. Trying to dislodge myself from the binding, my hands find a zipper. Grasping it, I attempt to slide the zipper, managing to open it just as water crawls down my throat. Fire fills my air passages as I progress to get my head through the hole. The water is dark and murky, a taste like slime to it. Shoving my covering off as I kick, still falling as I go. By the time I get myself all the way untangled, the world is starting to fade. I have to keep on going. I have to live. I keep kicking until my head pops out the surface of the river and my body makes it to the land.

The light of the setting sun burns in my eyes, yet, despite coughing liquid out of my lungs, I see the van. The automobile that must have dumped me into the current, to end my life; driving off after throwing me into the depths. It is old, some of the doors replaced with black instead of the brown that it originally was—an odd contrast.

I still do not know why this has happened to me. I am nobody, not rich or anything. I'm not even fit. I have not done anything worth this to anyone, even Flash Thompson wouldn't do this to just puny Parker. What were they even doing to me? How long was it that I had been in there for? Man, did I miss the science fair? I wasn't even finished my project. I'm just fourteen, can I not just live my life for a few more before this kind of thing happens?

I am Peter Parker; I am fourteen years old, already living horrors that no one should.

* * *

 _All I can see is a blinding light without my glasses, but, as my eyes g_ _e_ _t used to the light, I can see an old man with a lab coat, face mask, and big glasses. His hair falls past his chin on both sides of his face, hiding what little of his face remains. The walls, if there is any, must be far out of reach, or they could be the same colour as the floor and my eyes have failed me as they had many times before in my life, the one thing I envy Uncle Ben for. I can hear very little over the biometric monitors that had been set up everywhere. The doctor is holding a tablet, the only words I can read at the top are patient #02SPC4; he never seems to look away from it._

 _I tr_ _y_ _to move around to see better, but my arms and legs_ _are_ _held down, by what look_ _s_ _like leather straps. The doctor must not have planned for me to move, because I h_ _ave_ _countless_ _intravenous_ _tubes in my arms. I tr_ _y_ _to rotate my arm to see all the colours in the tube, but that cause_ _s_ _intense pain—to the point where my vision blur_ _s_ _._

 _The doctor react_ _s_ _to my movement. "Now is not the time to be moving, you must rest," he says in a crackling voice._

 _"Guuullgaahh."_ _is_ _what sound c_ _o_ _me_ _s_ _from my mouth as I tr_ _y_ _to respond to him. The tubing that protrude_ _s_ _from my throat, prevent_ _ing_ _any true words_ _from_ _be_ _ing_ _heard. Choking on the mass in my neck, a feeling not unlike drowning._

 _I s_ _ee_ _the doctor come at me with a syringe with a malicious look in his eyes, he stab_ _s_ _it into some part of the tubing. After_ _a_ _few moments, the world start_ _s_ _to fade into darkness, there_ _is_ _no way for me to stay awake. I stop feeling anything, as my consciousness start_ _s_ _to fade, I f_ _all_ _into the void._

* * *

I find myself wandering over to my house. The grass is freshly cut, by its strong sent you can tell it was just hours ago. I see the side door is open ajar, it is closer to the stairs, easier to not be seen as a mess as I go to my room to get some real clothes. I do not want to worry Aunt May more than I have to. The TV is louder than its usual volume, so I am not heard by anyone on my way up. I head to the end of the hall where my room is, to my dresser.

I start pulling out clothes to wear, so I can get out of the wet hospital scrubs. I grab a blue t-shirt, a reddish brown pair of jeans, underwear, socks. I start to get dressed till I goet to my socks, I had walk here bare foot, cuts are all across my feet, the skin is even peeling. Somehow I am not bleeding, so I put my socks on.

I head to the stairs to say I was okay, as my aunt and uncle must have been worried about me with how long I had been gone. As I am taking my seventh step I hear the phone ring. Turning myself around to the phone in my room, so I can answer it. As I step in side the door-frame, Aunt May voice can be heard.

"Hello... yes this is May Parker." The phone stopped ringing, Aunt May had picked it up, by the basement stairs. There is something wrong with her voice "Ben Parker is my husband, but why are the police calling here?... what? What happened to him?

I find myself grabbing shoes and a red zip-up hoodie to wear. I may have missed a few words but I hear Aunt May saying. "He's been shot... how w-wh-where? He's at the General Hospital!"

Before I can hear much more, I leave the way I came. It sounds like Aunt May would look for her way there, as I hear the phone dialing after she hung up. Uncle Ben must have had the car, I do not see it on the way out.

* * *

 _I run as fast as I can without care for how far I have to go, or what would be in the way. I had to see_ _Uncle Ben, he had to be okay, he is my Uncle Ben. He is my second father, he treats me like his own despite the fact I am not his, and the trouble I cause. I may have blown up a few thing more than what I meant t_ _o in my experiments. But he would always make should I learned from my mistakes, he was just how he was._

I am running so fast that, when I make it to the hospital doors, they do not have time to open, and I run into them.

 _Bang!_

I lay in the doorway for a while trying to catch my breath, not even moving when the doors closed on my leg. The sky outside has become much darker, a black void of nothing which I lose myself in for some time. I get up to run to the reception desk, but as I get through the second door I trip and fall into an EMS driver.

The EMS driver picks me from the ground, holding me by my shoulders she looks me in the eyes, asking, "Wow! Hold your horses, why are you in such a rush? You're in a hospital, people do not need to be hurt any more than they are."

"My Uncle Ben. He's been shot, I have to see him. Where is he?" My voice wavers as I speak.

She looks worried as she hears this. Taking one of her hands off my shoulder, she starts to guide me towards the urgent care wing.

"He just got out of surgery, the next few hours will tell how he does. The room number for Ben Parker is 616." She stops at a room with glass walls and points to the door. With that she is gone, walking away shortly after we get to the room.

I can see Uncle Ben laying there hooked up to a lot of medical equipment, with the lights on in the room. He looks so peaceful laying there, in the pure white bed. I am glad that he looks okay, despite that hateful beeping that the machines make endlessly. I saw the clock strike ten o' five, and I know that it was time to open the door.

"Peter, come where I can see you," Uncle Ben says before I can step through the door.

"How did you know it was me? It's been so long since we had a talk."

Ben has a grin on his face. "I had to know you better than you know yourself for many years now, of course I know who you are. You have been a great part of my life, not the longest but still one of the greater parts."

I have been slowly moving closer so he can see me, but I cannot look him in the face and keep my hood up. "You have always known what to say to me, even when I don't want to hear you."

Ben tries to adjust himself to look at me better but stops, cringing in pain. "Peter, when I was your age I never knew what to say or do, but, as time passed, I learned what was right. But if I never changed, you would not see me as you do. People are the only thing that can change what they do, or the world around them, not many try to change the life that they live. Animals and the stars, they do the same thing and there will be no change to the stats of those who live long enough to find the math of their actions. You can find out how a person has acted, but they can change when the right time has come to not follow the rules they once belonged to. This change is power, and it comes with a responsibility to do what is right." I see that he is right, it may not look like it at times but he is right. "With great change comes great responsibility."

"Yes, yes it does."

We talk for a few more minutes, before he falls asleep. I think, that I had seen a water fountain at the end of the hall. Looking for it, I head the way I thought it was, but it was not. I look around a few corners before finding it. Taking a few long drinks I return to the hall with Ben's room. The cry of the heart monitor is different than before, louder—a death call. Doctors and nurses run past me as I stare at the scene before me. The doctors telling the nurses what to do, Uncle Ben laying there still as a board, and Peter Parker being pulled away from him crying.

I was Peter Parker

* * *

I have always liked the idea that Marvel had of Spider-man being cloned. But the clone never really stayed in comics, so I wanted to see a world with him in it more. At some point I wrote a challenge(I have a list on my profile.) based on the idea, now I am writing the story of it. This may not belong to any cannon, but some of the ideas may come from a few. Thank you to my beta(AreiaCananaid) and family, who helped me with ideas and my bad grammar. I think, that I will write the rest of the story in third person.


End file.
